A Steampunk Tail
by YpoferoFaraday
Summary: The air hummed with mechanical melodies, beating a clockwork cadence and singing a tempered steel tune. A steampunk story of Hiccup (girl), who finds herself at the center of the raging war against the dragons, playing a game of chess with a Shadow. But every move she makes risks the lives of everyone around her. Will she win the war of wits or will she fail again...AU
1. Chapter 1

There was the faintest hint of purple in the sky, signaling the oncoming of dawn. The stars receded from the east to be replaced by the swirling indigo and magenta paint strokes of the gods. Pale lights twinkled across the coastline and a faint melodic clicking echoed through the air. Icy waves sloshed against the cliffs of the harbor and a chill breeze blew through the winding streets and labyrinthine alley ways of the city. The first rays of sun flashed over the horizon, catching the tops of bronze towers and the crowns of crystal spires. A peaceful calm drifted with the fog, washing everything in a pale peach glow.

This is Berk, the citadel of the Archipelago. It is a city built on hopes and dreams, made almost entirely of metal and glass. It has a grand view of the sunset, and the sunrises aren't half bad either. It is the pinnacle of the modern world. The only problem is the pests. While most cities have to worry about warlords or political corruption, Berk has…

An explosion ripped through the air…

Dragons.

Glass shattered and metal screeched. The calm was torn apart in an instant as screams and battle cries filled the air. Dark shadows danced through the sky, swooping low over the city. More explosions followed and the city shook from the impacts. Swarms of shadows fell over the city center around an immense structure that towered above the rest. Red and orange fireballs ricocheted off the steel reinforcements, illuminating the bronze armor of the Málm Lagið, leaving hardly a scratch, must to the frustration of the assailants.

Hiccup lost her balance as the tower took another bombardment of blasts. The walls echoed and vibrated but held firm. She clung to the railing until the shaking subsided, and continued her sprint up the stairs. Her booted feet clanked against the metal steps and joined the cacophony in the tower. The stairs spiraled around the entirety of the inside of the tower. Hiccup looked over the railing as she continued her climb. While the outside of the tower, a giant of bronze and steel, was an impressive sight to behold, the inside truly took one's breath away. Massive gears, weights and counterweights, struts and support beams, churned at the heart of the tower. The air hummed with mechanical melodies, beating a clockwork cadence and singing a tempered steel tune. This was the literal Heart of the city, the beat of which was felt in every home and under every cobblestone street. It was a constant source of hope and power.

Hiccup pulled her attention back as she neared the next platform. The walkway was in near chaos. Leather and metal clad men and women ran to and fro, hauling weapons and ammunition to the gunmen on this floor. The steady chug of artillery could be heard on the other side of the wall from the gunmen in their firing pods. Hiccup wove her way through the chaos with practiced ease and ducked up the next staircase, making her way as fast as she could for the top of the tower. There were three solid floors that spanned the entire tower above the Heart. She burst through the heavy door and continued to sprint down the hallway, skidding to a halt in front of massive steel double doors. Wasting no more time, she burst through those as well. The sounds of the fire fight hit her full force, crashing with the heavy smell of sulfur and smoke.

"Nice of you to join the party!" A gruff voice yelled from somewhere in the chaos of the vast laboratory. "I thought you'd run off."

"What? Who, me?" Hiccup called back, "What would you do without all…this?" 'This' referring to all 90 pounds of her pale, thin figure that was currently weaving through piles of machinery and scrap metal towards the open bay doors on the other side of the room. She finally found the source of the voice currently shoulder deep in the engine of a rather beat up bi-plane. As he stood up, the plane sputtered to life. Hiccup hurriedly strapped in her harness that tethered her to the tower, tied her hair up out of her face in a sloppy bun, and ran out to the sling-shot. The plane's front tires rolled into two divots on the balcony, a hook latching onto its axle. With a thumbs-up from the pilot, Hiccup pulled the release on a leaver and heaved down on it with all her weight. There was a click and a boom and the plane shot back out into the night.

Hiccup watched the plane bob back out into the fray. Dragons and planes brawled in the sky, receiving and returning heavy fire. The sky was alit with the sights and sounds of heavy firefight, the rising and falling whine of engines, and the vicious roars of dragons.

Not three seconds later, another plane skidded down the short landing run, halting just before the frame of the bay doors.

"RUDDER!" The co-pilot shouted simply in order to be heard over the roaring engine, howling wind and deafening fire blasts. Gobber instantly went to work on the smoking and torn up rudder, and after resetting the sling-shot, Hiccup joined him. She ran for a new rudder while her mentor removed the old one. Moving with practiced and fluid motions, she attached the new rudder, tested it, and was at her place back by the slingshot release without a moment to spare. That plane was in and out in less than a minute. Hiccup watched proudly from her position as her planes darted through the fire fight.

Of course they had been her inventions, though not many people knew that. Who else's could they be? Certainly not Gobber's, though he had a few inputs for additional features once she had completed the basic design. Mainly weaponry. Weapons, however, were very heavy, and speed and maneuverability were sacrificed for the ability to counter attacks. She would have preferred to have as few weapons on board as possible and focus on shielding and tact, but it had not been her call to make. In the end, her father had deemed strength more important than agility, as was the Viking way. The pilots are warned repeatedly never to stray far from the citadel center so they can return to for hasty repairs on a moment's notice. Many a pilots had gone down from overconfidence and arrogance drawing them too far into the fight, unable to make it back after an unexpected hit from a dragon. It was a shame but Hiccup knew not only could she not dwell on it, but she could not blame herself as she had tried to do countless times. They were her planes, her designs, her responsibility to keep the pilots safe.

Then again, how safe was anyone with dragons in the air with you?

The planes main design was simple enough, two parallel sheet metal wings straddled the open double cockpit, a stream engine powered twin propellers that were short but thick, and the tail fins and rudder mimicked those of dragons in form and function. Apart from the basic frame, however, every plane was different. After so many hits, each repair adds a certain amount of…character? Yeah, that's what the pilots call it.

Welding scars litter most of the planes' hides, propellers come in all shapes sizes and colors, and tail fins take so many hits that it was almost a competition to see which pilot could last the longest with the most damaged fin. It made Hiccup sick just thinking about all the needless risks the pilots took just because she couldn't make their planes strong enough, but she was making up for that now.

Plane after plane tumbled onto the machine shop balcony, each repaired with high speed precision, and returned to the battle. Gobber and his young apprentice worked in determined silence. This continued until the sun was clearly visible beyond the eastern mountain range.

Hiccup was beginning to tire and when the fighting finally began to taper off, Gobber took over for a time to allow her to rest. She took a moment to remove her harness and retreat farther into the shop. She took a drink from a metal canteen and watched Gobber launch the last plane into the morning sky. He shielded his eyes from the sun with his non-prosthetic hand and peered out over the battle field. From where Hiccup was sitting, she could only see the sky line and the tops of a few taller structures of the citadel. A swarm of dragons was retreating past the snowy peaks to the east and only a few stragglers still fought on, but they were easily repelled by the skilled pilots that remained in the air. Eventually the sky was clear of the flying demons and Hiccup allowed herself a relieved sigh.

"No one called in Downed," she pointed out to Gobber as he slumped over the where she was sitting on a pile of discarded rudders. She offered him the canteen as he sat down on an upturned barrel next to her, but he declined, preferring his own mug of some mysterious steaming brown liquid. Hiccup just shrugged, whatever got Gobber going was fine by her.

"Ay, that's good," Gobber replied, too tired to even construct his usual snarky retort. The day had only just begun. Pilots would be in all day to get their planes properly repaired, but they could take it a bit slower without the urgency of battle biting at their heels. Hiccup undid her hair and started tying it back in a proper braid, working the bright red strands into tight knots.

A familiar hiss sounded from beside the doorway, followed by a soft thunk that signaled the arrival of mail. When Gobber made no move to retrieve it, Hiccup sighed. "No need to get up, I got it," she said sarcastically in an attempt to get him up, but to no avail. "No no, really. I'll get it. Don't want you straining yourself in your old age." That got him. He swung his mallet prosthetic at her, which she easily dodged. Giggling, she skipped backwards a few steps before trotting over the mail chute. She removed the metal cylinder from the chute built into that wall and popped it open, pulling out a piece of paper.

Her eyes skimmed over the hastily typed message and she turned back to Gobber. "Dad wants you in the War Room. He's probably going to suggest another counter attack to try and fond the Dragon's Nest."

"Aaah," Gobber grunted, downing what was left of his drink. "Those caravans never come back. Besides, it's almost Winter and the mountain pass will be snowed over within a few days. Does he think we're indestructible?"

"Hey, no use trying to convince me, it's me dad you're after," Hiccup held up her hands defensively.

"I mean, I get that we're Vikings and it's an occupational hazard and all, but seriously!" Gobber threw his hands up. "We're not gods as much as he likes to think we are... And not all of us are as young as we used to be." He sighed and his face dropped. Hiccup was about to snap a witty retort about his age but refrained when she saw his face. There were moments when Gobber seemed ages older than he was, or perhaps he was for once acting his age. But it was those moments that worried Hiccup. Gobber was never one to let his age or disabilities hinder him in any way. When he was genuinely tired, Hiccup knew there was something wrong.

Gobber caught her sad expression and instantly scowled. "I don't' need yer pity!" He barked. Aaaand, he was back. "You hold down the fort. I'll try to reason with your boar-headed father." They both snorted at that and Gobber left with an exaggerated battle cry. They both knew there was no reasoning with Stoick the Vast, Chieftain of the Citadel of Berk, Commander of the largest and fiercest army in the Barbaric Lands. Hiccup just shook her head and silently wished Gobber luck.

"Hey Gobber," Hiccup stopped Gobber at the large entrance. The large man stopped and looked at her expectantly. "C-could you, you know… ask him again?" she said quietly, her large green eyes uncharacteristically serious as she stared up at her mentor pleadingly.

"Ah, lass, you know his answer…"

"But I haven't messed anything up recently… well, nothing big anyway. And nothing big has blown up, and I-" She was cut off with a wave of Gobber's hand.

He sighed exaggeratedly, pulling his good hand over his face before looking back down at his apprentice. He had to admit, she had been exceptionally good these last few weeks since her father's previous rejection. All the lass wanted was to join training when it inevitably started up this fall, but although he was the training instructor, it was not his decision to make whether or not she could join. She had confronted her father on the matter numerous occasions, but his answer had stayed the same. A while back, Hiccup had recruited Gobber to help with her plight. But even with him on her side, the Viking chief remained unmoved in his decision for his daughter to stay out of the fray.

"Just once more, Gobber. Please. If – if he says no this time, I'll never ask again," she held his gaze with determined yet pleading eyes.

"Alright-"

"Yes!" She jumped up and shook Gobber's forearm in her excitement. "Thank you, thank you, thank yo-"

"Just this once, and I'm not making any promises, I cannit say I can change his mind," Gobber didn't want her getting her hopes up. She nodded furiously but an exuberant smile split her face as she quickly hugged him. He patted her frizzing red hair and turned to leave. He understood what this meant to his apprentice, and if she was willing to put all her hope in him, then by Thor, he wasn't about to fail her. If anyone had a chance of changing Stoick's mind, it was his best friend and right-hand man.

Hiccup watched her mentor stride down to bronze platted corridor feeling her hope shrink a little with every step. She quickly gathered it again. If anyone could change her father's mind, it was Gobber.


	2. Chapter 2

Hiccup waited for a little while for pilot's to stop by with their planes for repairs, but more likely than not most of them were attending the war council and would be by after its completion. So until then, she had the shop to herself.

A smile crossed her face as she wandered over to her corner of the machine shop and slipped under a large sheet draped in front of a large bay door. She skipped to her work surface and pulled out drawings and schematics, shuffled through them until she found the few she needed for this point in the project, and walked calmly back to the mass of metal sitting in the middle of the area.

The room was roughly 40 paces long and 30 wide. A series of mismatched steel metal desks and work surfaces lined one wall, covered in papers and pencils, and dozens of small gear-driven contraptions. Piles of scrap metal she had salvaged from other planes were stacked in a semi-organized manner at the far end of the room. Taking up most of the space in the room was a plane, half its front unbolted and its engine spilling out onto the floor. The propellers were propped against the other wall next to several other prototypes. There were simple props with just two blades, a few that had any number of blades, and one that had four overlapping blades meant to spin in opposite directions. Hiccup had the most hope for that one, but she wasn't to the point yet where she could test them.

The rest of the plane was quite different from any other she had created thus far. The cockpit resembled a semi-flattened bullet and there were only one set of wings instead of two like the fighter planes were outfitted with. The wings, currently only skeletal membranes, were angled down and back and bent slightly back up at the tips. A vertical tail fin jutted proudly from back of a long thin membrane that Hiccup referred to as the 'Tail Bone'. In fact, many of the features of the plane were styled after those of a dragon and were named as such. Bronze, steel, and aluminum sheet metal were used interchangeably as the skin of the vessel, held together with a pattern of near seamless welds and evenly spaced steel rivets. It was beautiful and chaotic and Hiccup loved it.

This plane, also unlike its fighting counterparts, was not designed to carry weapons and only allowed for light armor, as it was intended for speed and stealth. Hiccup had realized long ago, though her father refused to listen, that the Pass that supposedly led to the dragon's nest was, well…impassable, and as such the only way to follow the dragons was by air. Their current planes, however, were not fast enough to keep up and not strong enough to survive the harsh conditions, and that was all assuming they weren't first attacked by the dragons they were following.

Hiccup hoped to use this plane for reconnaissance. She knew her father would not agree with it, ever, point-blank, and she hadn't shown Gobber and though was hesitant to keep it a secret from the older man, she felt it for the better. He might tell her father, then she would be in a heap of trouble. Gobber wasn't the best at keeping secrets.

The girl pushed the unnecessary thoughts aside and instead started to work again. After pulling over the necessary tools, she set to work on the steam engine again. This too was the first of its kind, smaller lighter and much more powerful, this engine was built for speed. Hiccup smiled at the image of her racing through an auburn lit sky, weaving through swarms of dragons. She cleaned and sanded, disassembled and reassembled parts of the engine, and slowly the machine was pieced back together inside the snug hull of the plane.

Just as she was finishing placing a slotted panel back over the engine, a ringing came from the other room signaling someone had landed on the shop balcony.

"Ah, business," Hiccup sighed, brushing her hands off on her leather apron, quickly covering the plane with a tarp, and striding out to the larger room. Out on the Sling-Shot Balcony sat a gleaming bronze plane, and beside it stood a middle aged dark-haired man. "Artemus!" Hiccup shouted and the man turned to face her.

"Hiccup, how's my favorite mechanic?" He greeted warmly and clasped her hand in his large one before pulling her into a bear hug. Artemus was Berk's top fighter and one of the few who tolerated Hiccup more than most.

"Och, Arte-… can't breathe," Hiccup gasped and the man let her go with a jovial laugh. She laughed nervously as she caught her breathe.

"Still a fishbone, I see," he said merrily, looking over her still thin figure with amusement. He had known Hiccup since she was a wee lass, back when the skies weren't filled with fire, and her mother was still here. Artemus had been the first person besides Gobber to recognize the girl's potential and encourage it. It had only been with her help that he was the best fighter pilot the citadel had ever seen. He'd be nothing without his wings and mechanic. Speaking of which…

"Good to see you too. It's been a while, what two weeks? Three? Since you've had an accident," Hiccup grinned. "Not that I'm not glad to see you but what brings you by today? You better not have broken my plane again," she warned as she leaned around the larger man to get a peek at the plane. Artemus tried to block her view with a nervous laugh but she had already seen the damage. "What did you do?!" She shoved passed him and stormed over to her prized creation. Like the other planes, it had two sets of wings, but both sets were close together and set below the cockpit. They angled together towards the back. It was the fastest she had ever created… and tested, that is. It was built more for speed but at Artemus's request, she had outfitted it for war. As such, a typical co-pilot's seat had been removed and replaced with an automated machine gun that the pilot could control during flight. Only the most skilled pilots could fly ant fire at the same time without losing any strength or speed. It had the standard two blade propeller, though she had been wanting to ask him if he would allow her to test her twin prop on the plane. It was streamline and gleamed in the sun like a golden teardrop.

As much as she admired her work, she hated seeing it. It always meant it was damaged. A deep gash ran along the left side almost along the joint that bonded the wing to the hull. The metal was charred and frayed, and torn several inches open.

"It's but a flesh wound. The engine's still fine," Artemus tried to calm the simmering mechanic, nonchalantly waving a callused hand in her general direction.

"Flesh wound!" She shouted as she inspected the damage, running her fingers over the burnt lip of the several inch wide tear. Inside was a clearly visible but thankfully still intact round metal tank. Hiccup sighed. "You're lucky it didn't hit the structural supports or the fuselage! You were this close," she held her fingers infinitesimally close together to prove her point.

Artemus was silent at that. They both knew of several good pilots, friends, that had gone down due to damages similar to this one. They had gone up in balls of fire before they could eject.

"What happened?" Hiccup asked with quiet, concerned anger, keeping her eyes on her work as she pulled over her welder, some scrap metal, and a few other tools.

"Night Fury," the man replied simply, though Hiccup heard the bitterness in his voice.

"So you didn't get it?" Her only response was silence, confirming her suspicions.

The Night Fury was the bane of her existence, and the rest of Berk as well, but hers specifically. She could outfit a plane to take most hits from just about any dragon, may it be by talon or fire, but not those of the Night Fury. No metal could withstand the intense heat of the demon's blasts and its claws shredded plane skin like paper. Too fast to even follow with your eyes, a single Night Fury could easily take down any number of planes in less than half the time than any other dragon.

But that was what confused and terrified Hiccup the most.

It never did.

Almost every plane struck by dragon-fire had been hit in the tail or wings, occasionally resulting in a Downed plane. It was strategical strikes, whether anyone else admitted it or not. The dragons knew their weak points and struck hard and fast. But the Night Fury never struck the wings or fins of her planes, though she had no doubt in her mind that the creature was smarter than any other. Whenever the Night Fury struck, it was the body of the plane where the hide was the thickest, and it never did as much damage as she knew it was capable of, and it rarely took down planes. The only thing she could think of was mercy, but intelligence did not equal sentient emotion.

Hiccup shook her head. She had spent countless hours and long nights trying to think this through. Every time the Night Fury struck, she would analyze the scorch marks, measure the tears and gashes, and try to counter its attacks with stronger armor, quicken the response time in the wings and tales, but each time the Night Fury cut right through her attempts. It was like it was mocking her. Like it knew she was pitting herself against it.

It was immensely frustrating and a more than a tad terrifying.

"You'll get it next time!" She tried to say cheerfully and punched Artemus on the arm. He didn't even flinch. He turned to look at her with a playfully bland expression.

"Hmm? Oh, did you just try to hit me?" He queried, a smirk spreading across his face.

"Hey! Do you want her fixed up or not?" Hiccup scowled and jabbed a thumb back at the plane.

"Oh, I mean… Aaaaah, oooohhh, the pain, aaaggg…" He fell to the floor in an exaggerated heap, clutching his arm where she had hit him and rolling around.

Hiccup laughed. "That's better," she hummed and set to work repairing the plane, already inspecting the damages and preparing a counter attack. She would have liked to discuss the raid at length with Artemus, the Night Furies actions and inactions, as they had after every raid that included the Night Fury, but that may have to wait for another day considering the upcoming Nest Search. In the mean time, she would let her mind ponder what she already knew of the elusive creature, and prepare as she could for the next raid, whether that be with or without Artemus.

Preferably with. There was not much Hiccup could do without him. Smart as she was, she could not fly. But he had readily agreed to, and in fact seemed rather eager about, having her as his strategist, to consult before and after each raid. He was strong and fast and smart, but she was smarter though lacked wings, metaphorically and physically. She knew his strengths and the strengths of his plane, analyzed the dark dragon's fire power and fighting patterns in ways he would never have thought of, and could predict tactics and attack patterns with startling accuracy. She was a natural born Strategist and he was proud to be her pawn.

.:~:.~.:~:.~.:~:.~

Had one rude comment but for the most part, i'm glad people like the story. I'm splitting my time between two stories right now; this and Raven: Shadow's Revenge. Updates should still come pretty fast as i've got a lot of free time. If you've read any of my A/N's from my other story, you'll know it takes a lot to offend me, so review how you must. But i trust that you are all decent human beings... i mean unless you are lizard people, i mean that's cool too, you're probably decent lizard people.

I have a very good plan for this story, i'm rather excited about it, and can't wait to see what everyone else thinks about it too.


	3. Chapter 3

"Either we finish them or they finish us!" Stoick the Vast bellowed to the assembled officials of the Citadel. They stood gathered in the highest point of Málm Lagið, immense steel reinforced glass walls swept around the entire room and peaked high above their heads. Sunlight poured in and shone upon the gear and fire embellishments that were etched on the spiraling supports of the tower dome.

The room itself was a hundred paces all the way across with a raised dais in the center, surrounded by a sweeping bronze railing. The rest of the room was lined with machines and a chaotic array of bulky contraptions all woven together with thick copper cords that conveyed power to the multitude of transmitters, receivers, relays, and simple computers. If the center of Málm Lagið was the heart, this was the brain of the citadel. It ran the train systems, coordinated flight paths for the larger passenger carriers, and controlled the power of the entire city.

Seated at their stations and many standing along the wall were the pilots, officials, archivists, strategy specialists, military heads, and even a Technomancer that stood in a small cackling cloud of electricity off to one side of the room.

Stoick stood upon the raised dais, dressed in typical armor, not having changed since the battle that morning. Leather tunic and chain mail comprised the base layer. He didn't wear much heavy outer armor. Not having the build for a pilot, Stoick directed missions and counterstrikes from the Tower. There was not much need for his armor, but after an incident involving a Gronckle smashing through the Dome, he thought it best to be prepared for any situation.

Gobber stood to Stoick's right in his stained and worn work tunic, waiting for the Chieftain to continue. The assembly restrained their groans. They knew what was coming, yet another hopeless expedition into the mountains in yet another vain attempt to find the Dragon's nest. Gobber knew better than to protest openly and kept his oppositions to himself.

"One more search, before the ice sets in," Stoick declared, though there was a hint of request in his voice. He understood his men's hesitance but he had a good feeling about this one. This was the search to end all searches.

His men did not agree.

"Those caravans never come back."

"I think I'm getting sick."

"Yeah, not today."

Similar such comments fluttered through the room. Stoick didn't want to but he knew it was time for his trump card. "Alright, those who stay will look after Hiccup."

"To the tanks!" Cries went up around the room.

"I'm with you Stoick," shouted the chief's brother, raising his hand as well.

Stoick nodded. Now that was more like it. It's not that nobody like Hiccup, she was a nice enough girl, but nobody could keep up with her. Physically or mentally. She was always running a million miles an hour, whether she be working on a project or thinking through some new invention or simply running errands around the city, nobody could get Hiccup to sit still for even a moment. They much preferred the prospect of death by fire and ice to going on a wild goose chase around town for a talking fishbone.

The men trickled out of the room, pilots to send their planes in for repairs, strategists to prepare for the upcoming journey, and anyone else who still had to write a last will and testament… just in case.

"Right, well I'll go get my net," Gobber clapped his hands and prepared to leave as well. He loved Stoick like a brother, but he would rather go on the wild goose chase.

"Gobber, wait. I need you to train some new ground recruits while we're away." Stoick stopped in front of Gobber, a stern expression on his face.

He had been expecting this and launched into his argument that he'd been preparing. "Oh perfect," Gobber sighed and watched the last of the assembly disappear down the spiral staircase. Only a few hands remained in the dome to keep up operations. "And while I'm doing that, Hiccup can cover the shop… heavy machinery, power tools, molten steel, lots of time to herself… what could possibly go wrong."

"Och, what am I going to do with her, Gobber," Stoick sighed, leaning heavily on the railing in a show of weariness that only occurred in Gobber's presence. It wouldn't do to have the citadel thinking he was old and weak. He didn't have time for political upheaval or revolutions.

"Put her in training with the others." Stoick chuckled sadly. "You know how much she wants to be a pilot. Pilot training starts in two months. Ground training will be a good first step for her. You can't hold her back forever," Gobber tried reasoning with him.

"She'd be killed before you let the first dragon out of its cage, and i don't even want to talk about her stepping foot in a plane. She'd have no idea what's she's doing"

 _She has more idea than you know,_ Gobber wanted to say, thinking of all the planes Hiccup designed, built, and maintained without her father's direct knowledge...or consent. Gobber thought better of it, quite liking his head on his shoulders. "Oh, you don't know that," he said instead.

"Actually, I do know that."

"No, you don't!" Gobber replied just as forcefully. He sighed heavily and considered briefly telling him about her plane she was building. But he knew that that would only cause more problems, especially considering Hiccup didn't know he knew about the plane either.

"You know what she's like, Gobber. From the time she could crawl, she's been…different. She can't fly a plane, she can't hold a gun, she can't even throw a grenade properly without injuring herself or someone else. She'll never be able to kill a dragon."

"Only 'cause you've never bothered to try and train her! I'll say it again. Stoick, let me teach her," Gobber was all but begging. Stoick, still uneasy, shook his head. "Would you rather her learn on her own? She's more a chance of maiming herself that way than if I teach her, even with my, eh… unique training techniques." Gobber chuckled and Stoick grimaced. The entire citadel was familiar with Gobber's training methods, or lack thereof. "I know it might seem hopeless, but it's only a matter of time before she takes matters into her own hands, if she hasn't already. You can't stop her, Stoick. You can only prepare her."

Stoick looked up at his long-time friend's face, his thinning blond hair and fire tanned skin, and the sincerity in his eyes. As much as he hated to admit it, he was right. It was time for Hiccup to learn to fight, and Stoick felt a little built guilty at shirking his responsibilities as the girl's father to train her to protect herself. But if he could trust anyone else to train his daughter, it was Gobber.

"Alright."

…

Work had been surprisingly slow considering that they were prepping for another caravan into the mountains, but Hiccup wasn't about to complain. It meant she had the rest of the day to herself. She stepped out into the brisk noon air and took a deep breath. On the lower level of the city, protected by the towering edifices, the breeze was not as strong as it normally was. The spiraling forms of towers crowded the sky above her and around her were the packed streets and bustling parkways of the lower level. A chaotic mass of shorter brick buildings filled in every spare area around the feet of the towers and worn walkways weaved around, and sometimes through, them in an attempt to keep some semblance of order of the crowds of people. Walkways followed murky storm drains and climbed fallen brick walls that leaned precariously against their neighbors. Children darted through the structures like goats, parents watched from the shops that were built into their homes, workers wheeled wagons through the streets picking up debris and carnage from the early morning battle, and pedestrians swam through the chaos with a fluid ease achieved only by the long-time inhabitants of the Undercity.

Said inhabitants were just as chaotic in appearance as in actions. Skin tone ranged widely from pale white to peach or tan to chocolate browns. Hair was generally wild and unkept reds and browns, rarely Hiccup would see golden locks. Then there were the foreigners, refugees that had fled the mountains since the rise of the dragon war. Though how and why remained a mystery, the foreigners tended to be much...brighter. Skin tones started with the common tan or browns but were sometimes pale greens or faint blues, like they were sick or cold but showed no signs of being such. Their hair, whether natural or dyed, was every color imaginable and sometimes several at a time; blues, greens, and even more vibrant reds being the most commonly uncommon. Though they were easy to pick out in a crowd, there was no distinguishing the foreigners from the citizens in actions or character, all holding great pride in their voices and strength, often resulting in a wild cacophony of sounds.

The sights and smells were even more overwhelming and had Hiccup not grown up in this environment, she would have been overcome by the onslaught. Sweet and mild fragrances mixed with tart ones, and drifted through the colorful haze that hung perpetually in the air. Music and song lifted above the cacophony of shouts and laughter in a beautiful yet strange melody. Coupled with the ever constant drum of the Citadel's Heart that constantly beat the tempo, it was like the city itself was singing and dancing.

That was what Hiccup loved the most. Despite the disorder and chaotic, run-down nature of the Undercity, there was always an air of mirth. It was an ever constant contented joy.

Of course, to assume that there were no problems in their perfect little world was naïve. Anyone who thought differently was quickly taught just how deep the shadows were, and just how cruel they could be. Hiccup had long since learned to avoid the ally-ways and never travel at night or in the evening.

There were things in this world more vicious than dragons.

Hiccup set her thoughts aside as she strode through the crowded streets, past vendors selling everything from herbs to clothing to foreign knick-knacks scavenged from distant shores. No one paid her any mind as she bobbed around. That was another thing she loved. Down here, she wasn't Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, daughter and heir of the Chieftain and Commander of the Citadel of Berk. She was just Hiccup, and sometimes not even that. Very few people down here knew of her status, and that was how she wanted to keep it, though for her own reasons. Her father said it was dangerous if anyone outside of the Tower knew who she was, and that there were many enemies that might seek to exploit the only known weakness of the mighty leader. Though she heeded her father's words, it was nice to be among those who didn't single her out for her screw-up's or status.

Still though, Hiccup kept her hood up and her head down and wove through the crowded streets with practiced ease. Normally, the colorful wares and shiny knick-knacks would draw her gaze and she would meander through the shops, but today she was on a mission. While the shop in the tower provided anything and everything necessary for the construction and maintenance of the fleet planes, there were times when she required custom parts for her more exotic inventions, her new plane being the current one. There was only one place she knew where she could get the necessary components, and that was where she was headed.

The Citadel of Berk could be described as quite chaotic to those less familiar with the construction. The original foundations of the city had been built centuries ago by Vikings that had traveled from an archipelago far to the North. The small village grew as times changed and man advanced. Wood was replaced with brick and structures grew taller, wider, and stronger. After nearly another century, the city's inhabitants deemed it necessary to rebuild, but rather than tear down the foundations, they built over top it. Huts and homes were overshadowed by bulky brick industries which were in turn dwarfed by towers of glass and steel. Walkways weave among the lowest level, but the middle level, the industrial level, is ruled by old lifted railways that sweep between complexes.

The highest level of Berk, the Towers that govern the skyline, were constructed all at once around the central Heart. A matrix of metal and glass ramparts and bridges link the entire upper level in a gleaming hive-like manner. Far from just for show, every piece of the upper level was constructed for war. Bridges were built to withstand bites and blows from dragons and even take accidental friendly fire. Regularly spaced outposts were armed and manned at all times.

The citadel's boundaries were marked with similarly fashioned watch towers, also connected with the matrix of bridges. Beyond the man-made boundaries of the citadel, was the treacherous cliff coastline to the west, thick forests to the north, and an immense mountain range that consumed the eastern horizon. A few farms lay to the south in the relative protection of the natural canyons that marred the earth there.

To the North, following the rocky coastline was an old worn road that led to an old outpost long abandoned and converted into a salvage yard. Raven's Point. The yard took care of salvaging and scrapping larger equipment that couldn't be handled in the citadel, such as old freight and sea-faring ships, large cargo or passenger planes that fell into disuse after the dragon war started getting more intense, and tanks that returned from searches too damaged to be repaired.

It was a treasure trove to be sure, but the sight of dead machines made Hiccup sad. It felt too much like a graveyard since she had made most of the machines and vessels that were currently rotting there. But because of that, she also knew exactly what was at her disposal, an arsenal of motors, engines, actuators, and general scrap metal, along with just about anything else she could imagine. It was just what she needed to complete her plane.

Hiccup jogged through the massive iron-wrought gates into the expansive scrap-yard and followed the dirt path through the mounts of scrap. Tattered fabric fluttered in the sea breeze hanging in shreds off mountainous skeletons of ancient sky-ships. The sound of metal grinding against metal echoed from the far North side of the yard but she made for the center where a lone industrial brick building squatted amongst the chaos. Most of the windows were shattered and boarded up. Part of the east wall was cracked and crumbling but for the most part, the building firmly stood its ground against the battering of time.

"MILDEW!" She called out to the elderly hermit who ran the scrap yard. When she received no response, she called out again. "MILDEW…MIL- oh there you are," Hiccup called pleasantly, and was greeted with a less than pleasant grunt from a white-haired gangly old man who had come around the corner of the building sporting an impressive scowl and a large mallet.

"Oh, a grunt! That was almost an acknowledgment, Mildew!" She called sarcastically. When the old man saw who had summoned him, he rolled his eyes and promptly retreated back around the building.

"A grunt _and an eye roll!_ That is an improvement, my friend," Hiccup called after the retreating form of the thin old man who flipped her off before disappearing from view. "Pff," she scoffed. If it was up to either of them, they would not interact, but she wasn't allowed to wander around the scrap yard unless he knew. As such, she had to inform him whenever she was on the premises.

Putting aside the usually dismal greeting, she set out on her mission.

By the end of the day, Hiccup had scaled several old sky-ship skeletons scavenging the thick leather that made up the skin, broke down several other old plane engines looking for an undamaged piston, went scrap sledding just for fun, almost took Mildew out at the knees, and was pleasantly surprised to find a nearly undamaged glass cockpit dome from one of her earliest designs. The glass dome was quickly removed from later designs after it was decided it was just unnecessary dead weight and hindered emergency ejections from the plane. Hiccup, however, un-decided that. It would be a very useful feature to have on a stealth plane than she planned on taking into the frigid environment of the mountains.

She packed her duffel with her collected items, put in her request to have to cockpit dome delivered to the tower, and headed home for the night, already planning how to improve and implement the dome into her plane.

.:~:.~.:~:.~.:~:.~

Hehe, i hate Mildew. The old shrew, let him live in the scrap yard. Away from the city.

Thank you for the awesome reviews! I love the steampunk era and thought HTTYD would fit rather well in the Golden Age.

Clarification brought to my attention by mc arno: Artemus is not a male Astrid, he's middle aged dark haired man. Definitely not Astrid. I will bring her in as a girl and I have plans for her and the rest of the gang. Be prepared. Its about to get moving real fast. If you ever have questions about the plot so far, don't be afraid to ask. Just be warned, i will not give anything away about the future. Throw out predictions if you must, but i will neither confirm nor deny the accuracy of said predictions. Have fun.

Queer Nomad, over and out


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was dangerously close to the horizon by the time Hiccup finally made it back to Málm Lagið, slipping through the small hidden entrance beneath a railway support and away from prying eyes. Light flashed through the metal grates of the small tunnel and her footsteps echoed hollowly and she strode lightly through the maze. It was little more than a service access for some of the lower level wiring conduits but it more than served her purposed of entering and exiting the tower unseen. The tunnel twisted and turned for a little longer until she arrived at a larger sheet metal chute that ran straight up to the top of the tower. She stepped into the little metal cage and pulled a heavy lever, which gave out protesting creaks and clanks until with a resigned thunk, the cage jerked to life and began its ascent.

Light flashed in and out as she rose past the first few stories of machinery rooms and massive power converters. She watched as she glided up past the Heart again, relishing the deep pounding of the titanic gears. Her vision was once again blocked off as she entered another sheet metal section of the chute signaling she was nearing her destination. She shoved her weight against the old lever and with a few more ominous groans, the lift ground to a stop.

Hiccup stepped out onto the service platform and made her way back towards the main corridors that were uncharacteristically quiet. Though, with over half the tower's residents preparing for the upcoming convoy, it was to be expected.

She dropped off her newly acquired materials and slowly walked towards her dormitory, wondering if her father would still be home or if he had already left to ready the convoy. She kind of hoped it was the latter as she didn't really want to face his wrath for being out so late. Alas, her hopes were ill founded.

The heavy iron door slid open making hardly a sound, much in contrast to the crudely maintained inner workings and service areas of the tower. For a moment, she thought the large dorm she shared with her father was empty as only a few lanterns were lit. But after another quick scan of the room, her gaze startled to a stop on the large figure currently adjusting the furnace at the far end of the room.

 _Sssshhiiii_ … she whispered in her head as she closed the door quietly and locked eyes on the metal rung ladder that led to her loft. She was half way to being home free when she kicked a loose bolt that was lying on the floor, which bounced off the ladder, then the wall, then the floor a few more times, and rolled with a final laughter-like clatter at her father's feet.

"Haha…uh, hey dad…" Hiccup laughed nervously and rubbed the back of her neck as she lifted her gaze to her father's eyes.

"You're home rather late," Stoick spoke distractedly, as though he had something else on his mind, and there was something else in his expression that Hiccup almost mistook for nervousness. But that was impossible, Stoick the Vast was never nervous.

"Oh, uh yeah. I just got kind of side-tracked and uh…" she trailed off when she realized her father wasn't really listening, as usual.

"I need to speak with you, dear," he clasped his hands in front of him and his face betrayed a hint of excitement…and was that… _pride?_

Hiccup's mind flashed back to her conversation with Gobber that morning, and her heart skipped a beat or two. She didn't dare get her hopes up as she stood stock still, waiting for her father to continue.

"You get your wish." Her heart stopped. No way. "Dragon training. You start in the morning."

Hiccup's face paled. No no, she couldn't have heard him right. That wasn't... She didn't want to fight dragons! She just wanted to fly, maybe be an aerial strategist or flight coordinator. She didn't actually want to fight. She thought her father understood that, it had been one of her strategies in trying to convince him to let her into training; on the premise that she would not actually be in harm's way.

"Dragon training?!" She said incredulously. "I think there must have been some misunderstanding. I wanted to enter pilot training..."

"You'll need this," Stoick ignored his daughter's protests as he dropped a very heavy laser rifle into her arms.

She grunted. "Wha-oof - I mean. Uhm, don't you think we have enough dragon fighting pilots?" She tried to keep the gun from dropping onto her toes, which would hurt despite her steel-toed boots. "I was thinking, do we have enough strategical assist pilots or, uh, recon pilots…" Hell, she'd even take passenger carrier to dragon fighter. Her father laughed like she had just made a rather fantastic joke, his head tipping up in amusement. "Oh boy," Hiccup whispered, seeing that her father clearly wasn't going to take her seriously.

"You can never have too many dragon fighters. You'll do great," her father beamed down at her, completely ignorant of the horrified expression frozen on her face. He straightened her shoulders and readjusted the hefty weapon before turning to retrieve his pack.

"B-b-but, I don't want to fight dragons," Hiccup pleaded.

"What? Yes, you do," Stoick, again, did not listen.

"Rephrase: Dad, I said I wanted to be a PILOT, not a dragon fighter."

"Same difference."

"No, no. Big Difference. Are you even listening to me?!"

"It's time Hiccup. I thought you'd be happy about this?"

"You're really not listening, are you?"

"Pilot training doesn't start for another month, this is a good stepping stone. If you do eventually become a pilot, you'll have a duty to protect this city, and that includes killing dragons. You'll meet Gobber and the other recruits in the west hall of floor 15 after sunrise. I expect you to train hard and make me proud. Do we have a deal?" Hiccup didn't respond, not that Stoick would have heard her anyway. Her father took her silence as agreement and patted her head. "Good lass." He turned and retrieved his dark green traveling pack that he always took on searches. "I'll be back…Probably."

Hiccup watched her father leave, the door sliding shut soundlessly behind him. She was left in a rather disappointing cloud of silence as she stared at the closed door.

"And I'll be here…maybe." She let the rifle slip from her grasp and land with a thud next to her feet. She doubted she even would have felt it had it landed on her toes, she felt so numb.

Auburn lantern light flickered across her pale freckled face as she stood frozen in thought for a long while. Eventually the light that filtered in through the large wall window died with the setting sun and she was shaken from her thoughts as a lantern died as well. Hiccup sighed and turned off the remaining lanterns and retreated to her loft, leaving the weapon in the middle of the room.

Her loft was not very large, hardly enough to accommodate her and a few blankets, but with the bubble-like window that was the east wall bowing out into the night sky, it felt much bigger. She didn't even bother to change from her grease stained green blouse or her brown leggings. Her steel-toed leather boots and leather vest were tossed over the edge and she dragged herself under the covers.

As Hiccup gazed out at the quickly darkening night sky, she felt her mind drifting into the uneasy void that it sometimes entered after 'conversations' with her father. Instead, she turned her thoughts to the Night Fury. It was a welcome distraction from her other issues, and she let her mind chase the shadow through the night sky.

Its antics confused her. While the destruction it wrought was catastrophic, she couldn't help but believe that it was only a fraction of its true potential. But whether the dragon was going easy on them out of pity, mercy, or if it was just toying with them, she couldn't be sure. It felt like a game, he would send back a damaged plane back to her and wait for the next challenge to be sent his way. He was testing the waters, testing her strength and countering with strategic strikes. It was like a game of chess and he was the black queen, capable of so much yet rarely showing it's true power. She herself felt like a castle, trapped until her path was cleared by others, capable of only limited movements. And then there was Artemus. He was the only reason she was able to play the game to begin with. He was her wings. Speaking of which, she should really talk with him regarding the previous raid next chance she got, that was if he wasn't going on the convoy as well. Never the less, she was not one to turn down a game of wit and strategy, and Hiccup accepted the silent challenge as she stared out at the dark sky.

She would play his game, and she would win.

She had played her move during the raid that day. It was his move. What would he do?

…

The Night Fury hummed curiously as he rested on a west facing cliff in the mountains. The raid that morning had mostly been a success, but that fighter pilot had returned. The one in the bronze platted plane. He was a skilled fighter and provided a welcome challenge to the mighty dragon, but something had felt off about their fights. Something had felt off for quite some time and warranted his attention. The dark dragon had noticed quite a while ago that very few planes could take a direct hit of his plasma blasts, and he had taken many planes down rather easily though he had not been trying to. He would strike the hull and side instead of the wings and tails, it was more than enough.

But the gold plane was much stronger.

And was being repaired every time.

It was the one plane that returned to every battle. And every battle, it would seek him out. After a blast to the wings, during the following raid, he noticed that the wings had been reinforced with latticed iron and steel, as had the tail and rudder.

Someone was countering his attacks. Someone had analyzed his fire power and predicted his strike pattern, and prepared this plane accordingly. It obviously wasn't the pilot himself, as his strategies during each fight remained unchanging for the most part, but would alter next time. No, the pilot had a strategist who would analyze each fight and coach him on how to prepare for the next one.

He was almost impressed. It wasn't just anyone who could keep up with a Night Fury, mentally or physically, and this strategist clearly could, mentally at least. The pilot was the physical. The pawn.

The Night Fury smirked. So it was a game.

He glanced back at the twinkling lights of the citadel and his smirk widened to a sly smile and he silently accepted the Strategist's unspoken challenge.

He would play their game, and he would win.

He watched as a single orange light flickered from the inside of a small glass bubble protruding the east side of the Citadel's center tower. A tiny shadow shifted and the light faded. But even after the glow had gone, the Night Fury still watched the dome absentmindedly. The strategist had made their move with their Gold Wing fighter during the raid that morning. It was his move.

What to do, what to do...

But perhaps he was getting ahead of himself. Where were his manners? He had yet to even introduce himself to his adversary. Yes, it was time this pawn met the White Queen.

.:~:.~.:~:.~.:~:.~

So they both think of each other as the enemy queen, and think of themselves as lesser pieces, which is important. But what are they really? If anyone is unfamiliar with chess, which i'm basing a lot of the plot off of, i suggest you look it up. The queen is capable of any action that the other pieces are, except the Knight, which can jump over pieces in an L shape. Castles (what Hiccup thinks she is) are positioned in the corners of the board at the start of the game and are generally not deployed until later, but sometimes stay behind to protect the King. King can only move one space in any direction, but it creates kind of a protective _dome_ around him (Wink wink). Bishops can move diagonally but one bishop on each side is confined to either black or white tiles, (it's just how they are) which makes them rather easy to avoid but also easy to forget about (to me at least). Pawns can only move forward, one or two spaces on their first jump, but only one space at a time for the rest of the game, and cannot move backwards, making retreat impossible. They capture pieces that are diagonal to them and if they make it all the way across the board, they can become any piece and gain its abilities, assuming it isn't captured immediately. Pawns are also (somewhat unwisely) used as bait or decoys, resulting in the capture of quite a few. (I always make sure my pieces never 'die' in vain, and avenge their deaths with the capture of their murders. I'm weird when i play chess, always imagining a real battle, which i guess is where this story came from.)

Have fun figuring out who is what piece, i know i will.

Responses to reviews. I had to translate a french review so i'm not entirely sure what you were asking about ground troops, but they use ground troops to convoy through the mountains because it's practically impassable with their current planes. They uses tanks and steam powered trucks, which usually end up at Raven's Point. Most air forces are trained as ground units as well, hence why half the Tower is empty of personnel but some need to stay to defend the city.

Other response. Airships... yes, but not yet. Big plan for an airship, i hope you like it.


	5. Chapter 5

"Welcome to dragon training," Gobber addressed the gathered youths. Hiccup stood towards the back of their small group as they walked across through the glass enclosed bridge. The bridge, suspended thousands of feet above the middle level rail system, curved elegantly from Málm Lagið to an intersection between several other towers. They stopped briefly at the round observatory-like intersection as a few of the new recruits wondered at the view. Hiccup suspected that apart from her cousin and herself, the recruits had never been in the upper levels.

As if to prove her point, a pair of teens stepped towards the glass walls. The boy and girl looked like twins. They shared dirty blond and wore the raggedy uniform of middle level factory workers, though they were likely just hand-me-downs as children were not allowed to work in factories. Another girl stepped forward, though her hair was a much brighter blond, almost gold in the morning sun. She wore lose, brightly colored clothing typical of lower level gypsies. Vibrant blue eyes gazed in wonder down at the lower levels that were barely visible under the factories, train grid, and light smog of the middle level. In the middle of the observatory stood a large blond boy in archivist clothing, looking very nervously down at the glass floor. Hiccup almost laughed at the boy's fear. These bridges were meant to take blows from dragons, they were more than capable of handling a few scrawny teens and a one legged blacksmith.

Hiccup's cousin, Snotlout, leaned against a steel support beam picking his ear. As Hiccup watched, he inspected something on his finger before flicking it away. She grimaced at her cousin and turned to the last recruit who hung back behind her and was gazing out at the eastern mountains intently.

He looked like a traveler, dressed in a gray traveler's tunic and cloak. Baggy dark brown pants were tied with leather around his shins and met well-worn brown leather boots. Despite the ragged appearance of his clothes, he looked well groomed for a traveler. His course black hair was trimmed neatly at his ears though a few strands refused to stay down, and his darker toned skin showed no scars or dirt so common among travelers.

His presence was slightly confusing as he did not retain any of the attributes of Berk citizens, nor did Hiccup recognize him though that was not uncommon either, but also did not look like one of the foreigner refugees with their colored skin and bright hair. While it had become increasingly more common for a few foreigners to join dragon or pilot training, travelers generally didn't stay long enough in the city to complete the training courses. Hiccup wanted to think on it more, but feared she was over-thinking it like she did with everything. For the time being, she just shrugged and assumed he had just moved to the city and perhaps planned on staying longer, perhaps permanently. That seemed the most logical circumstance. Or perhaps he was simply an odd foreigner. It mattered little.

So here they were, all staring out at the shimmering citadel from the impressive heights of a steel and glass bridge, waiting for Gobber to draw back their attention. He didn't fail.

"All right, enough of your lolly-gagging. You'll have plenty o' chances to admire the sights." He turned on his peg leg and set off down the walkway again. Through the glass roof, they could see a large structure rising up in front of them. Though not near as large as Málm Lagið, it was impressive in its own right.

It rose up out of the middle level on a massive lattice of steel and concrete supports. From the outside, they could see the stone foundation reinforced with iron, and the giant glass dome rising far above them. The sun was blotted out as they walked into the shadow of the immense structure. The bridge transitioned into a stone lined tunnel and no one dared speak as they wandered through the maze-like corridors. The air was thick and musty, and felt ancient. It felt like the shadowy pit held stories and victories and mysteries far older than the citadel itself. Vines crept up damp walls and only the only light was provided by the torch that Gobber had grabbed when they weren't looking. Shadows danced ominously on the edges of the lantern light.

"What is this place?" the gypsy girl asked. Her voice was quiet but betrayed no fear if she held any.

"Well, Astrid, this is-" Gobber started only to be cut off by the larger blond boy, who excitedly started jittering as he walked. He seemed to be gaining back whatever confidence he had since they were no longer on the bridge.

"It's the arena! It was constructed nearly 300 years ago when the first Viking settlers moved from the Barbaric Archipelago. The original one was made from stone and is still the foundation of this one, though it had been modified and expanded in recent years and now stands at 500 feet tall and nearly 300 across, surrounded by spectator stands that reach another 500 feet above the walls. The foundation itself is already a thousand feet off the ground…" He trailed off, seeming to realize that he was still rather high off the ground.

The group had stopped to listen to the boy's rant with a mixture of expressions, ranging from shock to disinterest, to rather snub-ish looks from Snotlout and the male twin.

Gobber coughed, trying to break the awkward tension. "Uh, thank you Fishlegs…" He said uncertainly. "Anyway, going off what Fishlegs said, the arena was built, maintained, and is still used to train new recruits." Finally they reached the end of the hall and Gobber heaved open a large iron and stone door. Light flooded the tunnel and they all squinted, momentarily blinded.

When their eyes adjusted, everyone stood in awe. Even Snotlout had the sense of mind to be impressed. As Fishlegs had said, the foundation was still the original stone pit, roughly 100 paces across and 20 tall. It was covered in old cracks and thick vines, and the floor was crushed to dirt. The top of the stone wall was built into a metal terrace that expanded the arena by another 100 paces on all sides. The newly renovated metal walls rose high above their head, connecting to the glittering glass dome. Hiccup looked up. The dome, not necessarily round now that she had a closer look, was a web of triangular metal supports with large panes of flat glass between. The result was a beautiful refraction of light around the arena.

Gobber walked down a ramp that led into the stone pit. Still gazing in amazement around the arena, the group slowly made their way down into the pit as well. "Welcome to dragon training," Gobber repeated his earlier statement and waved around the arena. That seemed to snap the teens out of their daze.

"Aw yes, I'm hoping for some serious burns," the male twin spoke first.

His sister followed. "Yeah, I'm hoping for some mauling, like on my shoulder and lower back." She rolled her shoulders as emphasis. Ah yes. Now Hiccup recognized them. The twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, were notorious pranksters and were well-known in the lower levels for their sometimes-harmless-but-usually-not tricks and pranks. Many of the more recent scars in Undercity were thanks to the duo who claimed to be the offspring of Loki himself.

Fishlegs, the son of a records keeper in the middle level archives, seemed to pale at the thought of burns and maulings. Astrid smiled bemusedly and spoke semi-sarcastically, "Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it."

"Hehe," Hiccup laughed nervously. "You know what, I think I'm in the wrong class." She started backing up but bumped into the foreigner who barely even registered her as he moved out of her way.

"Oh no ya don't." Gobber had appeared at her side and put a meaty arm around her shoulder, guiding/dragging her back into the center of the pit.

"Who's that?" The male twin turned to look at her and his sister stared over his shoulder. Astrid glance in her direction but seemed uninterested. Fishlegs shifted nervously, though for what reason, Hiccup didn't think that even the poor boy knew himself, and attempted a smile in her general direction. She couldn't see the foreigner as he was still closer to the ramp behind her a ways, but she assumed he was as uninterested as before.

Snotlout, who now realized who the center of attention was, sneered, "Oh great, why are you here?"

Hiccup calmly looked off to the side. "Oh you know, I just love the idea of being mauled and burnt alive."

"Alright, that's enough. Let's get started," Gobber said as he led the recruits to the center of the arena and had them line up. He disappeared for a moment behind one of the large doors for a moment and returned with large metal and wood objects. "Everyone take a weapon," he said as he dropped the vintage armaments to the ground with a clang.

For a moment, no one moved, too taken back by the so very out of date weaponry that Gobber supposedly wanted them to use.

Snotlout spoke first, but that came as no surprise. "What are we supposed to do with those? We're fighting dragons!" Snotlout emphasized.

"No, really?" Gobber picked up a hammer and shoved it into the arrogant boy's hands. "Our ancestors fought dragons for generations using nothing more than the weapons you see before you. Yes, we have improved our weaponry, but dragons have remained the same, for the most part. First we learn how to fight dragons, then we learn how to do so with our weapons."

Everyone looked skeptical, but no one questioned their instructor. Astrid stepped forward first, scanning the pile of rusted and dulled blades and picked out a large single edged axe. She struggled a bit but managed to heft if onto her shoulder and walk back to her spot in line.

"Excellent choice, Astrid. The axe is a mighty weapon, wielded by only the mightiest, bravest, and strongest of Viking warriors and chieftains. It takes strength of body and of mind to handle. Prepare yourself," Gobber warned.

Fishlegs sidled forwards next, and very slowly picked up a rather small mace, or perhaps it was simply dwarfed by his large hands as Hiccup was sure she would struggle with any weapon that lay before them today. Gobber explained the strengths of his chosen weapon and gestured for the twins to step forward. There was a brief struggle to decide who got which spear but in the end they traded anyway. Gobber didn't bother trying to talk to them about their weapons as they would no doubt have not listened.

"You next," Gobber waved at the foreigner.

Said foreigner said nothing as he retrieved a long sword and skillfully twirled the heavy blade around as if it were a play thing. Gobber, recognizing that he was familiar with his weapon of choice already, didn't feel the need to explain to the foreigner the pros and cons of his weapon.

"Alrighty then. Hiccup?" Gobber turned to find the girl once again trying to make a break for it. "Aw, come on lass. After all the work I went through to get you in here and this is how you repay me? By trying to sneak out? Really feelin' the love," Gobber rested his prosthetic hand over his heart

Hiccup hung her head and mumbled something indecipherable as she made her way up the pile of weaponry.

"What was that?" Gobber held his good hand up to his ear dramatically.

"Nothing…" She sighed in return. She eyed the pile warily, acutely aware of the many judging eyes on her but choosing to ignore them for the sake of her sanity. "Hey, you got any more spears?"

"Ah, no. Only had the two, but why don't you take a short sword. It's not as, ah… heavy as the rest," he whispered, as if the other teens couldn't tell she was all but a talking fishbone. Hiccup moaned and grasped the handle of a sword and dragged it back to her spot in line, the blade tip dragging on the ground and creating an awful scrapping. She promptly dropped the sword at her feet and crossed her arms over her thin chest.

"Righty ho, now that you're all properly armed…" there were a few skeptical scoffs regarding the 'proper' part. "Let's get started in earnest now, shall we?" He sauntered unevenly over another large stone door and rested his hand on an old lever. The door rattled a bit and muffled roars and grunts emanated ominously from beyond.

The foreigner stepped into her peripheral, a scowl set on his face as he watched the older man. "Wait, are their dragons in there?" The other students looked at him as he asked the question but quickly turned back to Gobber, varying stages of horror setting on their faces.

"Eh… yeah," Gobber said as if he was confirming the weather.

It was Snotlout's turn to interrupt as he too stepped forward. "Hold on, aren't you going to teach us first?" He was not so good at hiding his emotions as Astrid and the foreigner, though Hiccup had to give him credit for trying to hide the crack in his voice.

Hiccup groaned as Gobber chuckled. She knew what was coming. "I believe…" Hiccup muttered mockingly under her breath as Gobber talked. The foreigner glanced at her then back at Gobber with a well concealed worried frown.

"…in learning on the job," Gobber finished out loud, and pulled the lever.

.:~:.~.:~:.~.:~:.~

That went slower than i thought it would.

I'll pre-warn, there may *scratch that* _will_ be some mild language in the next chapter. I mean, if you were being attacked by angry caged dragons, would you not curse your life as well?

Also, i made a mistake in chapter 2 and now i know where the astrid/artemus confusion came from. Sorry. I was playing with the idea of having artemus being astrid's father and pulling in second plot with him but decided against it, but forgot to edit where i said his name was artemus hofferson. He is an independent character. I went back and changed that, he is now just artemus.

I would like some input on what everyone wants to see in the steampunk berk. I have had a suggestion for airships, i think i will include a technomancer or two...anything else you guys want to see? I need some stuff to spice up the setting a bit. Like, what is the first thing you think of when you think of "steampunk"? Just put your ideas in a review please and thank you.

An unnamed guest left a fantastic review, and i'd like to say thanx so much! You're awesome! i love the idea of hiccup and toothless being bishops only at full strength when they are together. I will definitely consider it but i did have tentative plans for the bishops. If you've got other ideas, i'd love to hear them. I do not have a chess rating, i just play for fun against the computer and random strangers at those giant outdoor ones.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: a fight, a feign, and a foreigner

"Shit."

Hiccup wasn't quite sure who said it, but it pretty much summed up everything everyone was feeling as the doors burst open in slow motion, liquid flames lashing at the stone floor and walls. Then out came the dragon and the spell broke. Time sped up again and everyone scrambled and scattered. Hiccup got two steps away when she remembered her sword, took a step back to retrieve it, thought better of it when she saw the bulbous brown dragon hovering over it, and hastily retreated again to the far side of the arena. She saw the other teens scatter too and he mind instantly started analyzing their movements.

"Quick, what's the first thing you're going to need?" Gobber called from behind the relative safety of the stone door to the dragon's pen.

"A doctor?" Hiccup quipped before diving away from a wild swing of her cousin's hammer. He was fighting on fear and arrogance. Fishlegs might have said something as well but was cut off when he squeaked in response to an only slightly less wild swing of Astrid's axe. The poor boy was controlled by his fear, and Astrid had unseen motives that fueled a dwindling determination. Hiccup saw all of this from behind a wooden weapon's rack that was leaning against the stone wall of the arena.

"A shield," the foreigner called evenly as he smoothly dodged a lava blast from the enraged Gronckle. Hiccup couldn't read him as well, though he clearly had experience. Although if he was from the mountain village like the other refugees, it was logical to assume that they had more contact with the dragons, thus more training in the field.

Hiccup quickly scanned the arena with the other teens.

"There're no shields in here, Gobber!" Snotlout cried. Hiccup's eyes fell on several oddly shaped cylinders and her heart skipped. Her inventions! Gobber had put her shields in here! If she had a moment, she would have appreciated that her mentor was actually using one of her inventions, but as it was, she was busy diving for the nearest one while avoiding wild attacks from friend and foe alike. She fumbled with it for a moment before hurriedly pressing the inset button on the base. A bright blue light flashed as a large round force field crackled to life around the cylinder that was now a handle to a three foot wide energy shield.

"HAH!" Hiccup laughed in triumph, but the flash had attracted the rather unwanted attention of the dragon, and she was once again running across the arena watching the others dive out of their way. The foreigner was the first to go for a cylinder after seeing Hiccup but couldn't find the hidden button. Hiccup tripped and the dragon flew over her head into a wall. She glanced over to see the foreigner looking at her urgently. "In the base," she shouted, pointing to where the button was on her own shield that was currently held above her head. Her moment of pride at being able to help was cut off as the Gronckle shook off the loose rocks and rounded on the teens once more. The foreigner finally got his shield up, quickly followed by Astrid then Fishlegs and Snotlout. The twins seemed to be fighting over the last remaining shield.

The Gronkle flew past her towards the still standing teens and Hiccup pressed herself against the wall to stay out of the way and watch and analyze as she did best. She tried to calm her breathing and make order out of the chaos. Instead of watching everything at once, she decided to focus on one thing at a time. A flash of bright color caught her attention first, and she saw the gypsy girl roll across the arena. Hiccup's mind quickly clicked into gear.

Astrid was quick and light on her feet, likely a result of living on the lower levels, as she was clearly accustomed to turning on a dime and weaving through chaos with relative ease. It almost looked like she was dancing, which Hiccup attributed to her upbringing as a gypsy. She did not, however, know how to wield an axe and it weighed her down significantly as she tried to dodge the dragon.

Snotlout, who Hiccup knew did actually have some training with older weapons from his father, threw his hammer with ease. Idiot. He threw his only weapon. Obviously, he hadn't had enough training, though he had nearly enough brute strength to make up for his lack of wit. But then again, he was rather cowardly and arrogant...so there was that too. It was safe to say he was predictably unpredictable.

Fishlegs cowered behind his shield, mace clutched to his chest and his knees knocking together. He's had no training what-so-ever, though Hiccup knew that he was familiar with the dragon. Being an archivist's son, he was likely very familiar with the statistics and abilities of various dragons but had never encountered one. He was a large boy but lacked muscle density, and his fear controlled him.

The twins had, at some point, been nearly blasted and were dragged by Gobber out of the way. so Hiccup had not seen them in action, though he doubted their abilities to say the least. Ruffnut was still trying to beat her brother with the shield cylinder, but they were now out of the way and relatively safe… well, safer than the rest of them.

The foreigner, oddly enough, had yet to attack the Gronckle, as Hiccup was initially sure he would have at least attempted. Instead, he seemed to be staying back and analyzing the fight as she was. He was not cowering, though, like she had no shame admitting she was. He held his sword tensed at his side, blade down. His knees were bent loosely and he looked coiled, ready to fight or flee at a moment's notice. He was a practiced swordsman, though she doubted whether or not it was his main strength. His shield moved ever so slightly to stay between him and the dragon's fire, but other than that, the strange boy paid no mind to the dragon. Intense green eyes followed every dodge, block, and dive of the other students. If his shield hadn't been moving, Hiccup would have thought he wasn't paying attention to the Gronckle at all.

He scanned the chaotic teens again and his face flashed with a mix of confusion and worry before his head snapped right and his eyes found hers. The confusion shifted slightly and Hiccup shivered at the familiarity of that gaze. It reflected her own emotions and thoughts every time she was combing over plane wreckage for a cause or listening to Artemus retell a fight with the Night Fury. It was her every time she was lost in her own mind while trying to figure out the depths of another's. It was dull yet intense. It was the deep, calculating gaze of an analyst.

He was a strategist.

The cries of the teens snapped them out of their staring contest and they looked over to see Gobber hauling a limp Fishlegs off to the side next to the twins. Snotlout appeared to be…flirting with Astrid. And Astrid used him as a human shield when the Gronckle fired again.

"Snotlout, you're done!" Gobber called. "Hiccup, get in there!" Her eyes widened as she was called out and she hesitantly stood from her crouched position and worked her way a few feet away from the wall. The foreigner stepped forward as well, and she could feel his eyes on her, waiting for her to move.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. This was her chance to prove herself, to someone who understood her. She wouldn't fail today.

Her eyes flashed open, revealing the cold green she had seen reflected in the foreigner moments ago. Not a muscle moved as she watched Astrid dodge the lurching Gronckle. Movements transitioned to facts in rapid succession. It was slow to the uptake but couldn't slow down quickly. It's heavily armored and not very maneuverable. It crashed into another wall as if to prove her point. It blasted at the gypsy girl again. Lava, not fire. Made from rocks, meaning it's limited in what it can produce by what it has at its disposal. Hiccup quickly scanned the arena, finding no more rocks in the vicinity, turned back to the dragon. It had a limited number of shots today. It hovered lazily a few feet above the ground but appeared to be tiring quickly, likely due to the exertion on its small wings. It never landed despite this, and Hiccup came to the conclusion that it was not very fast on its feet either.

She nodded to herself. Ok, task one: get it on the ground.

Lava erupted to her right and she jerked instinctively.

Scratch that. Task one: don't get hit. Task two: get it on the ground.

One problem with even her best laid strategies…her. This was why she had Artemus! Her strong suit was strategy, not implementation! Hiccup silently shrieked to herself as she ran from the enraged Grocnkle that she had stupidly thrown a broken axe handle at. In her defense, she was aiming for its wings, not its face.

She heard Gobber shout something but couldn't hear him above the sound of a rising lava blast. She half turned to raise her shield just as the Gronckle blasted it. The blue force field crackled and faded and the handle cracked, emitting dangerous blue sparks. With a disappointed and pained yell, she dropped the damaged hilt and watched it for half a second as it sizzled on the ground. She'd have to rework the energy shield strength, she thought, momentarily forgetting she was still on a battle field.

A mistake.

In that half second Hiccup had her eyes off the dragon, it rammed into her and sent her flying back into the wall. There were several sickening crunches and she slid down the wall, crumpling as she met the floor. The fuzzy brown blob that now consumed her vision got closer. She heard a heavy thud, signaling that it landed. Heat washed over her face as it sniffed her briefly before it pulled back and opened its maw, revealing rows of sharp, serrated teeth and a rising red glow in the back of its throat.

Well, shit.

But hey, at least she got it on the ground, she barked a sad little laugh. Hiccup curled in on herself as much as possible in a vain attempt to avoid the blast. The heat became unbearable but at the last possible moment, it jerked away and exploded just above her head. She dared not move even as she heard the gruff voice of her mentor not too far away.

"Go back ta bed, ya overgrown sausage. You'll get another chance, don't you worry," Gobber joked as he dragged the struggling Gronckle back into its pen, closing the stone door with a heavy thud. Hiccup slowly uncurled and glanced around at the other teens, who were now also slowly collecting their wits and what was left of their pride. The foreigner was the only one still standing, not far from his earlier spot near the wall where he continued to watch passively. Gobber walked over to the hunched form of his apprentice and hauled her to her shaky feet.

"Remember," he turned slightly and spoke loudly so everyone could hear. "A dragon will always…always, go for the kill," he leaned over Hiccup slightly, eyeing her carefully. After confirming that she was not actually injured he turned back to the other teens, leaving Hiccup staring intently at empty space for a moment before she turned to the scorch mark on the wall that was mere inches above where her head had been. Her thoughts raced again while her heart calmed down.

The only one to notice that she had stopped shaking was the foreigner, who watched as the red-haired girl brought a careful finger up to smoldering wall. Her eyes were hidden slightly by the turn of her face and a strand of choppy hair, but he knew the look in those eerily familiar green eyes.

He could not deny it now.

It was the look of a strategist.

.:~:.~.:~:.~.:~:.~

to orca3553: Your question was is toothless the foreigner or what?... I respectfully say, you tell me. The plot and all its characters will be revealed in due time, making assumptions and creating suspicions is all part of the game.

thank you to those who commented or PM'ed me with ideas and reviews! I greatly appreciate it, more than i can express! I am glad you all enjoy the story, i have so many ideas, and the plot is basically laid out in my head, i just have to get it written, lol. Isn't that always the trick... anyway, pay attention, little details may be very important and things that appear important may not always be... be aware, it is a game of wits after all.

I would love to talk strategy with anyone who has questions or suggestions, it's always nice to have more input, thanks again all

In chess, one cannot control everything. Sometimes a game takes an unexpected turn, in which beauty begins to emerge. Both players are always instrumental in this.

-Vladimir Kramnik -BrainyQuote dot com


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: A fight, a feign, and fire in the sky

 _A dragon will always, always go for the kill..."_

"So why don't you…" Hiccup muttered under her breath as she re-examined the Artemus' gold wing fighter plane. The hull had been sealed and the welds smoothed. All that remained was light weld scar that was practically invisible to the untrained eye. She held a contemplative hand to her chin and scowled, too deep in thought to hear the approaching footsteps.

"I didn't do what, now?" Said a voice behind her, jarring her from her internal war and making her jump. She turned to see Artemus saunter through the mechanic's shop towards her. "Because I swear it wasn't my fault…probably… What are you blaming me for not doing?"

Hiccup attempted a smile in greeting but her mind was still racing, not entirely focused on the physical world around her. "Uhm…" She shook her head, trying to remember how to communicate in words. "… oh, no. Not you. I was just thinking…"

"Well, don't think too hard, you might start getting _ideas_!" He shivered at the thought sarcastically but he still didn't have Hiccup's attention. He coughed into his hand...Then louder.

Hiccup's green eyes shifted from the plane to Artemus then back to the plane, a finger tapping rapidly at her chin. Then she froze and turned back to Artemus. "..Wait a second…"

"There ya go," he encouraged her.

"What are you doing here? I thought you went to look for the nest with the others!" She wiggled in barely concealed excitement.

Artemus chuckled at her attempt to conceal her enthusiasm. "Stoick wanted a few seasoned pilots to stay behind in case of a raid while they are gone. Besides, I'm not much use on the ground."

"Oh this is perfect!" Hiccup jumped on the balls of her feet a few times before sprinting over to work bench and returning with a thick, leather-bound notebook and a bronze ink pen. She raced past Artemus again and dragged a stool over from him before promptly sitting on the ground cross-legged, notebook open, eagerly waiting for the man to sit as well. She flicked through the notebook, past hastily scribbled notes and sketches and schematics, trying to find a blank page. When she was ready, she looked up again.

Artemus chuckled again but sat, leaning his elbows on his knees and hunching over to rest his chin on closed fists. "Alright, let's start at the beginning…

...

 _Sirens wailed and a cold breeze blew through the open bay doors as Artemus raced through middle level docking bay. All around him was the orderly chaos of dozens of pilots and co-pilots and deck hands prepping for take-off. Dull silver and grey planes lined the hanger, a few splattered with painted designs, family crests, or catch phrases. The east facing hangar was home to the higher ranking and more seasoned pilots who were the first line of defense in case of a raid. They were the first to head out and the last to come in, and on occasion, it was their duty to not return at all. It was a sacrifice they were all willing and ready to make every time those sirens went off._

 _Dragons. Artemus shook his head in disdain for the creatures. It seemed that they had a personal vendetta against Berk and its people._

 _His deck hand had inspected and prepped his plane already by the time he finally approached the stunning gold plane. It was certainly one of a kind; sleek and deadly, small yet powerful. It was one of the finest craftsmanship that had ever graced the sky. He whistled in awe every time he laid eyes on the custom plane and made a mental note to again commend the mechanic's apprentice for such amazing work._

 _Artemus quickly scaled the short ladder and hopped gracefully into the open cockpit, strapping on the metal lined leather helmet and connecting safety lines from his seat to his harness. The ladder was rolled away and his deck hand gave him the all clear._

 _Engines roaring and sputtering to life filled the air, propellers spun up and planes started rolling forward one by one, waiting for the all clear from the flight coordinators that stood at equal distances between bay doors waving flags and multicolored light sticks. Artemus followed suit behind a brightly painted older plane that was still spewing a bit of grey smoke in response to its hasty start-up. He watched as planes glided off the edge past the bay doors, bobbed a bit, then streaked out into the early morning sky and quickly disappeared from view._

 _A few doubled back around instantly, engaging a few beasts that had intended to strike the bay directly. The battle quickly heated up and by the time Artemus entered the fray, it was going full force. He ascended quickly above the brunt of the battle and banked wide around the growing fire fight, scanning for anyone who might need his help. His plane was one of the few that had forgone a communications array which saved several pounds of equipment and offered a rather significant increase in maneuverability. A few pounds could be the difference between life and death in the air. But the only possible downside was that he had no means of talking and strategizing directly with anyone. Not that he ever needed to. He was a renowned solo fighter, one of the best at intervening without interfering, and getting in and out without so much a ripple in the air currents. He owed most of it to Hiccup, who had analyzed his flight and fight patterns in some of the older planes and outfitted this one to match his preferences and strengths._

 _Artemus had thought and said it many times before, but Hiccup truly was a very gifted strategist, seeing one thing and interpreting motive, strength, and possible next moves and creating a counter within seconds. There were times when he wished she could be out here with him, but not only had he also forgone a co-pilot' seat, he really wouldn't want to put her in danger. He would be content with his strategy sessions before and after each raid._

 _Speaking of which, he recalled their brief conversation before-hand as he turned his attention to the outskirts of the city. His mission today was to find where and when the Night Fury arrived. In previous raids, Artemus had only engaged the black dragon after it had made its presence known, but Hiccup said she had a hunch she wanted to investigate. What it was, she wouldn't say, but he trusted her._

 _So he scanned the eastern horizon, eyes flickering between incoming and fleeing dragons, past darting planes and through streams of bullets and missiles that rained down from the tower defenses. The hive-like network of bridge defenses inhibited his vision of the city below but most of the fighting stayed above as the metal matrix was an unnecessary hazard to both sides. Only a few lone dragons rose and fell between the lattice-work before quickly darting away east with prey in claw._

 _He cursed under his breath but it was snatched away by the wind, unheard by even his own ears. The beasts found the sheep housed in the middle level. Before he could react, a team of four blue and silver painted bi-planes streaked after the fleeing dragons. His eyes were off the horizon for barely more than a minute but when he banked back towards the edge of the city, the bone chilling shriek sounded below and behind him. Artemus banked hard, trying to pinpoint the sound._

 _There! A shadow streaked like a black lightning bolt from the south eastern part of the city, rising impossibly fast straight up past Artemus' current altitude. He swore again and throttled up, quickly rising. His heart raced. Why didn't he see it approach the city? Artemus wanted to scream. He had only looked away for a minute, it shouldn't have been enough time for the dragon to make its approach from the mountains, bank around to the south eastern side of the city, and stay hidden through the middle levels long enough to come up that close to the center of the city._

 _His internal rant was cut off when the shadow streaked towards him and he barely had enough time to dodge the incoming blue-white plasma blast. The plane responded perfectly to his every command as he nearly rolled it to pursue the black dragon. He quickly flipped a few switched and readied his weapons systems, and felt the small machine gun turret hum to life behind him._

 _The shadowy form of the Night Fury was mostly still hidden by the thickening morning fog and even with the lightening sky, all Artemus could see was the hazy outline of the creature's wings and body. There was a flash of green eyes and Artemus quickly ducked left out of its line of vision. But the movement did not go unnoticed, and the creature twisted right, away from the gold plane, and ducked down before shooting upwards again._

 _Artemus throttled up more to gain speed and altitude. He let out a quick burst of gun fire up after the dragon and it seemed to clip a wing tip, but didn't do any apparent damage as the dragon tucked in its wings and flipped over. Now plummeting straight for the gold wing plane, Artemus had all of two seconds to dodge the attack and double back to keep the dragon in his sights. The ensuing chase lasted until the first rays of dawn touched the sky, and Artemus only got a few chances to open fire on the creature, never once inflicting any visible damage. He dodged blue blasts and one nearly took out his rudder, but he managed to pull up before the blast struck home. Their fight led them around the outskirts of the city, away from the majority of the fighting and out of range of the Tower defenses. They traded roles as cat and mouse and there were times when they would simply circle each other, unsure of who was chasing who._

 _Artemus risked a glance back at the city center to see that most of the fighting had died down and most of the dragons were retreating, albeit with livestock in their claws, but there didn't appear to be much damage to the city at first glance. That was a victory all its own._

 _With the sun rising, and the fog lifting, Artemus hoped to see the Night Fury properly, but when he turned back to face his opponent, there was only eerily silent air. He darted his gaze this way and that trying to relocate the beast. Then, before he even had time to register the keening shriek, there was a flash of brilliant light and a deafening explosion as his plane was hit. Hard._

 _Thick smoke clouded Artemus' vision and alarms blared on his dashboard as he struggled for control of his sporadic descent. The wings of his plane leaned heavily to the left and he pulled right to compensate. By the time he finally regained control, he had lost half his altitude, was nearly back to the city center, and the Night Fury was nowhere in sight._

 _He pounded his dashboard in frustration and conducted one last sloppy bank around the east edge of the city trying to spot the fleeing black beast. Only a few Nadders could be seen wobbling through the air with some pitiful prey in their claws. Artemus huffed before returning to Malm Lagid for repairs._

 _Hiccup wasn't going to be too happy._

 _:.~.:~:.~.:~:.~_

I forgot about a question that was asked a while ago. Someone asked about the 'gold wing plane' that the night fury was referring to a few chapters back was Artemus, not the plane that Hiccup i working on. I didn't mean to cause confusion. The night fury refers to Artemus as the gold wing fighter pilot, or simply the gold wing. Hiccup's plane doesn't some into play just yet.

sorry for the long time gone. I wrote an extra long chapter to make up for it but forgot that i had a two chapter buffer... so you guys gonna have a reeeeallly long chapter 9. But youre still gonna have to wait a bit longer. College.

Please review

"The beat of a heart, like the beat of a drum

sounds in the silence:

a war hymn's hum"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

There was silence for a very long time and if Artemus hadn't known better, he would have thought that Hiccup had fallen asleep. Her head was slumped to her chest, hair falling over her face, her pen held loosely in her fingers, and breathing shallow. Having gone through the same routine many times before, he simply sat back and waited. No, she was not asleep. It was quite the opposite actually, and he learned from experience to not interrupt this portion of the strategy session.

Artemus glanced down at her notebook where she had drawn a detailed outline of their fight, using symbols and lines to trace their flight path and input her own hasty assessment. He couldn't understand half of it, but he didn't need to.

A few more silent moments passed before Hiccup's head snapped up, her eyes burning with the dull intensity that Artemus knew signified that the girl was not actually seeing the room around her. She was envisioning the battle, every detail as accurate as she could recreate it in her mind. "Alright," she began. Artemus sat forwards again. She was not talking to him, merely speaking her thoughts out loud. "The Night Fury appeared from the south east quarter of the city, appearing less than two minutes after a thorough scan of the surrounding area had turned up clean. That is not near enough time even for the Night Fury to cover the entire flat plains between the mountains and the eastern edge of the city without being seen, and still have time to skirt south. It could have approached from the north using the forest as cover, but considering it appeared unseen prior to appearing in the south, I doubt that theory. Circling around all the way from west would waste too much time away from his task. My best guess is that it circled south then doubled back east for its final approach and appearance… but why…"

Hiccup mused a little longer, brows furrowed, eyes glazed with that pale fire, fingers hovering over her notebook. On the note of her question, Artemus had assumed that the dragon had simply wanted to disguise its approach, but there had to have been more to it than that if it had Hiccup stumped. He knew better than to voice his opinions. Hiccup couldn't hear him right now, or anyone for that matter.

"There is no point in it covering its approach to such an extent just to reveal itself, rather spectacularly I might add, like it did, right up through the center of the fighting. It didn't attack anyone or anything directly, just kind of dodged around you, didn't take anything…visible… Recon? What are they looking for, if that's the case?

"No, it's not," she shook her head. Her thoughts moved so fast that at times, her voice couldn't keep up. As such, she would come to conclusions and redact them before Artemus even had a chance to ponder them or her reasoning before she moved on."We already know where the dragons come from and go, so there's no point in trying to conceal it… Unless he returns elsewhere after raids, not with the other dragons east….But he's still risking a lot by making such a grand entrance into the battle field.

"Alright, backing up… What else was going on while the Night Fury entered?" Hiccup scanned her drawing of the raid, searching every detail. She grew frustrated the more her eyes wandered over the page. She grunted and ran a tense hand through her hair. "It was a normal raid." Her mouth turned down in a lopsided frown. She muttered so quietly that Artemus had to lean forward to hear her next comment. "Why would you use your queen as a distraction?"

The question hung in the air, hovering around Hiccup's head like the clouds that broiled on the horizon before a storm. It was distant but inevitable, and something to be prepared for. Who her question was directed towards, Artemus did not know. Hiccup was silent for a long time after that, pondering over the simple yet impossibly complex question. Query after query tumbled through her mind; starting with the 'why'… quickly breaking down into 'what' and 'who'. What was the distraction, a distraction from what? Who was the Night Fury… and who commanded him?

Who was the game master?

After contemplating these things, evaluating what data she had and addressing what data was still needed for a proper analysis, Hiccup returned her mind to the machine shop where her body had remained motionless for nearly two hours.

She took in a deep breath through her nose and her eyes started to focus again. Warm evening light spilled through the open hangar door in the machine shop and the bronze floor and walls glowed warmly. Artemus sat hunched over on his stool, arms crossed over his chest and head nodding on the edge of sleep. At the sound of her shifting positions, the man's head snapped up with a startled breath. After a lazy scan of the room, his dark brown eyes settled on the once again vibrant green ones and he smiled.

"Alright," Hiccup addressed. "Moving on to its attack patterns… It focuses solely on you for some reason, and does not fight at full power. Reason: unknown, but we will use that to our advantage. It is possible he doesn't see you as a threat, but you are more of a threat to him than anyone else. He has not taken you out yet, and as much as I trust your skills, he could do so with ease. The shot at your tail was a deliberate miss, adding to my assumption that he is not fighting you to kill you. Same with the blow to your hull, it was meant to cripple you, not down you. So don't focus so much on his attacks and more on his dodges, focus on predicting his movements and countering. Now, tell me every move he made..."

In the hours following, until the sun had set and the evening breeze had picked up, Artemus recounted every move the Night Fury made during their battle and Hiccup picked apart each attack, feign, dodge, block, and counter conducted on both their parts. Based on the recounts, the young strategist explained what she inferred from certain attack patterns that she noticed, warning signs to look out for, and other such useful tidbits that she could give to the pilot in preparation for the next raid. The Night Fury had a tendency of feigning left, though based solely on the description of the fight, Hiccup was unable to determine why. It frustrated her once again that she was not allowed on the battle field with Artemus, but they both knew it was far too dangerous and Hiccup resigned herself to the fact that even should she become a pilot, she would never be allowed to fight. Again, though, it's not like she wanted to fight. She didn't. But she wanted to help, and given her skill set, she could help best if she was out there with the other pilots.

The sun had long since set and their discussion was drawing to a close. Artemus stood, stretching back with a satisfying pop running along his spine. Hiccup simply rolled onto her side with a defeated sigh and a thump, uncurled stiffly from her cross-legged position, and stretched slowly out onto the cold metal floor. Artemus laughed lightly and offered a hand to the limp girl, who gratefully took it, and pulled her to her feet.

Her eyes had dulled again, though this time with the soft haziness that accompanied the lure of sleep.

"Perhaps you should be heading off to bed, yeah?" Artemus patted her shoulder lightly, though it was more than enough to send her a few fumbling steps forward.

"Hmm…yeah…" Hiccup replied half-heartedly as she shuffled towards the door to her personal workshop.

"Hiccup… your room's this way," Artemus turned her towards the door to the corridor with little resistance. He laughed again at the young girl whom he considered family. Perhaps it was not quite the relationship between a father and daughter, as that spot was already taken on both accounts… but perhaps one between an uncle and niece. He'd only ever had one sister, but she was taken before her time and left no children behind.

Soft mutterings brought him out of his musings and he leaned down to hear Hiccup chattering on about breaking down a portable communications array and something about assessing the dangers of close proximity of open circuits to the eyes… that sounded lovely, he thought as they approached the dormitory halls. He accompanied her all the way to her room to make sure she didn't fall asleep in the hall or find her way back to the shop as she had done on several occasions when her subconscious had taken over her motor movements. It was like sleep walking, but she would be found working on inventions while sleeping soundly, and waking up with no recollection as to how strange machines would appear on her work surface. It was a little disturbing to walk in on during the wee hours of the morning, so Gobber had said on occasion.

With his charge delivered safely to her quarters, Artemus turned to his own, whistling a soft tune to himself of a song his sister had once sung to him… The song echoed lightly off the metal walls and the words echoed in his mind in a warm soft voice…

 _I'll swim and sail on savage seas…_

 _~:.~.~.:~:.~.:~_

Thus, what is of supreme importance in war is attacking an enemy's strategy. -Sun Tzu -BrainyQuote dot com


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

"That Loki cursed child of a half troll…" Gobber cursed fluently under his breath as he strode purposefully towards the machine shop. Hiccup had forgotten about training, or more than likely, simply chosen not to attend, and was currently nearly an hour late. After finding the dorm hall completely void of any red-haired mechanics-to-be, he set out post haste to the shop, expecting to find her amidst her usual chaos and clamor. Though upon his entrance, Gobber was confronted with quite a different setting.

"What the…" Gobber muttered under his breath as he opened the door to the machine shop and gazed around the eerily silent shop. All the lights in the machine bay were blazing and the hangar door flung wide open to let in a chill morning breeze. But what confused the one-legged mechanic was the lack of the constant buzz that nearly always accompanied the early morning inventive sessions of his young apprentice. Instead, apart from the gentle hum of the lights, it was utterly silent.

"Eeeh…Hiccup?" He called. Nothing. His face scrunched and his wiry mustache wiggled against his nose. Pushing aside dumped out boxes of old tech and scrap, Gobber worked his way to the back of the shop and towards Hiccup's personal workshop. Pulling up the curtain that separated the smaller room from the main, he froze in the doorway.

Tools splayed out on the work surface in front of her. On the table sat part of a dismembered communications array that were outfitted in most planes, along with several pairs of high powered scouting goggles and scraps of an outdated aviator's helmet. Hiccup herself sat at her usual station on a metal stool too tall for her comparatively short legs, dressed in her usual short sleeve green tunic, baggy brown pants, and new looking tunic length black-leather vest that cinched across her chest. The green of her tunic's sleeves stuck out from under the skinnier straps of the vest and around the collar. He would inquire about the vest at a later time.

What caught her mentor's attention today was the mass of leather, wire, glass, and metal that completely obscured her head from view. It looked like she had shredded an aviator's cap, wrapped it in wire, and tied several pairs of goggles overtop, and sat the entire mess on her head.

Gobber's gaze flicked briefly to the massive tarp-covered machine in the center of the room that his apprentice did not know he knew about, then flicked back to his apprentice herself who's head was sweeping from side to side as though she were scanning the room. Uncertain of whether or not she had seen him, Gobber proceeded with caution, shuffling unsteadily on his peg-leg. "Hiccup?" He repeated with a firm hand on her shoulder and gave a light shake.

She whipped around until glass-enlarged eyes frantically found his. "AAAAAHHHH!" Hiccup flailed almightily and flung herself backwards off the stool, toppling said stool, and scattering the mess of pieces-parts in a fearsome flurry of twisted metal bits. The contraption cracked against the floor and one of the goggle's lenses shattered. Gobber echoed her exclamation but managed to refrain from startling in such an extravagant manner. It was silent save for a few metal rings wobbling until falling flat onto the floor with a light tinkle.

Hiccup, still helmeted but breathing fast, lay sprawled on her back for a few moments more before slowly pulling the helmet from off her head. A mass of red hair fell onto the floor and green eyes were revealed, staring wide up at her mentor. Groaning in pain and embarrassment, she rolled to her side and slumped to her feet still holding the contraption in her arms.

"Aaw, it broke…" Hiccup mumbled half-heartedly while inspecting the strange helmet in her hands, rotating it this way and that, nearly forgetting again that Gobber was there.

With an exasperated sigh, Gobber reached out and plucked up the helmet easily in one meaty hand. Hiccup watched almost in a trance as he set the device down one her work surface and his hand returned to his side. Only then did her eyes rise to his, widening with sudden realization.

"Ooooh, oh gods… Uh, h-how late am I?" Pale fingers ran through her hair as she tried to distract herself from the intimidating glower that her mentor was bestowing upon her.

"Nearly an hour," he quickly waved a hand to ward off her long-winded and undoubtedly complex list of excuses as to why she forgot/attempted-to-skip training. "Nah I don't want to hear it. I want your lazy rear end half way to the arena before I make it out of the shop or you'll be cleaning the bellows for a month!"

Hiccup's face paled very quickly and with a squeak and a stutter, she was scurrying around her work room, gathering a few odd baubles into her satchel, strapping on her thick boot, and streaking past Gobber faster than he could blink. He chuckled as her red hair disappeared out the door and down the corridor.

…

Now she really wished she had stayed in her workshop. Not only had she sprinted all the way to the arena but had nearly passed out in front of the other recruits upon her arrival. Her face was streaked with the usual amount of grease and oil, hair a tangle of fiery auburn, and eyes wider than those of a madman. Needless to say, her reputation, if she had gained any among the group, had diminished severely upon her hasty and undignified arrival.

And now they all stood staring into the arena with expressions ranging from mild amusement to arrogant indifference to horror. From their perspective, all they could see was a mass of metal and heavy wooden structures stacked and pieced together in a chaotic array of walls and ramparts and low ceilings. From Gobber's viewpoint above the arena, he saw the chaos for the beauty he genuinely believed it was: a maze. And not just any maze either, a three dimensional, multi-story, confusing at the least and psychosis inducing at most, work of mechanical genius.

With a disturbingly amused chuckle and no warning for his charges in the arena below, Gobber released one of the cage doors and waited for the screams.

"What was that?" Snotlout was the first to speak, a subtle shaking in his voice indiscernible to all but two, breaking the eerie silence that had built until they all heard the distinct sound of a cage door opening. Whether or not anyone deemed it necessary to respond would remain forever a mystery, because at the moment when anyone would have opened their mouth, a hair-raising screech echoed through the arena, bouncing off the twisted ramparts of the maze before them and scattering into the air.

An unspoken agreement hovered between them as they all took untrained defensive stances in a haphazard circle before the entrance to the maze, their weapons held in shaky grips.

Hiccup's mind quickly kicked into overdrive as she tried to assess the situation. They were untrained, in an unfamiliar setting, going up against an unknown enemy of unknown skills. Well, that last point could be easy enough changed.

"Fishlegs, was it?" Hiccup glanced sidelong at the bulky blond to her left. He squeaked an affirmative. "Can you tell what kind of dragon it is?"

At the opportunity to share his knowledge, he seemed to straighten a little bit as he eased into familiar territory. It was a mistake, Hiccup knew, as he let his guard down, but they needed to know what they were up against.

"Well, were as most dragons have roars, save a few such as the whispering death, there are a few that make distinct noises that cannot really be classified as a roar. The 'squawk' that we just heard is unique to its owner in that it-"

"Get on with it!" Astrid hissed and shuffled her feet uncomfortably as silence had fallen in the maze again.

"Deadly Nadder: classified as a Sharp class until roughly 30 years ago. Its incredible sense of smell and enhanced speed moved it to the top of the tracker class. It also has some of the hottest fire known of dragon-kind, earning a rating of 18…" He trailed off as he realized what he had said, the rest of the group letting the new found knowledge sink in as well.

A tracking dragon in a maze full of rookies; Hiccup felt unease seeping into her gut. It had been far too quiet for far too long.

"Well where is it?" Tuffnut scoffed, lowering his spear and hunching in an almost disappointed manner.

His twin shrugged, "Maybe we scared it aw-"

A terrifyingly close screech cut her off. Everyone stiffened in anticipation. Then it appeared, creeping around the entrance to the maze, its head low and cocked to one side as it gazed at them with large unblinking, distinctly reptilian eyes. It stalked towards them slowly, regarding them with what Hiccup could have sworn was a little amusement but could easily be mistaken for malice.

"Anything else, Fishlegs?" Hiccup whispered without moving or taking her eyes off the emerging dragon.

"Spines are poisonous," he said simply as the raised tail of the dragon rounded the corner and into their field of vision, full of deadly looking barbs all raised and poised to strike. For several nerve wracking moments, nobody moved.

Then with a deafening battle cry, Snotlout charged forwards through the group, swinging his mace above his head. The Nadder reared up in surprise, then squawked indignantly at the approaching boy.

"SCATTER!" Hiccup shouted to the rest of the group. They quickly dispersed, sprinting past the distracted Nadder and into the maze, whether due to her command or their own sense of self-preservation, Hiccup didn't really care. She sprinted by the dragon's raised tail and caught a glimpse of the twins run directly passed the Nadder's face, its gaze still locked on Snotlout as the boy faltered when everyone else retreated. The Nadder didn't even seem to see the twins until they were already passed the entrance to the maze and disappeared into its depths. Filing away the observation, Hiccup followed suit.

Fishlegs disappeared down a ramp into the shadowy lower levels of the maze, the twins peeled left, Astrid sprinted to the upper level, Snotlout on her tail, Nadder on his, and Hiccup broke right. After a few twists, turns, dead-ends and sudden drops that Gobber seemed particularly fond of, Hiccup found herself in the lowest level of the maze hiding in a dark dead-end beside a cowering Fishlegs.

"Hey, Fishlegs?" Hiccup whispered while keeping and ear and eye out for anything out for the Nadder. "So, uh… do the archives have any _detailed_ records of Night Furies?"

Fishlegs made a face that looked somewhere between shocked and horrified, but it went unseen in the dark. "Uh, a bit… but there's really not much… at all… like, apart from the 'unholy-offspring-of-lightning-and-death-itself' bit." He stuttered and Hiccup sagged a bit at the information, or lack thereof.

"Really? There's nothing else?" She turned away from the corner she was peering around to face him. "Ha-has anyone ever caught one napping?" He gave her an indistinguishable look but she missed it, lost in her musing. "O-or snuck up on-"

"No one has ever met one and lived to tell the tale," Fishlegs cut her off, staring at her curiously.

"Well that's not entirely true, I mean Artemus goes up against it almost every raid and-"

"Who?" Both Fishlegs and Hiccup nearly jumped out of their skins, knocking helmets and weapons loudly together in their start. Hiccup whipped around to face the newcomer, holding her tottering helmet on her head just barely. The Foreigner stood in the shadow of the corridor they had just been scouting.

"How did you… where… did you just…Heh?" Hiccup stated eloquently, glancing between the young man and the tunnel she could have sworn was void of life not moments ago. It was impossible to determine his expression with the lack of light but Hiccup thought she felt a smug smirk radiating from the Foreigner. Indignation rising, she hunched her shoulders and glowered as best she could at the intruder. "Don't you know better than to sneak up on people? What if we had attacked you?"

Without missing a beat, he responded coolly, "I had thought you would be able to maintain your focus even if startled to be able to determine friend from foe. Evidently I overestimated your ability." Hiccup just knew his smirk got wider, and his green eyes nearly glowed with amusement. Actually, it looked like they were really glo-

 _CRASH!_

A distant 'AAAAHHH!'

"AAA-" Fishlegs' cry was cut off quickly by Hiccup's hand, and eerie silence fell over the maze again. The larger boy was trembling so badly, Hiccup felt the vibrations all the way up her arm. She shook her head pityingly but couldn't say she fared much better. In other news… the Foreigner had vanished, go figure. Fishlegs noticed this too but his squeak was cut off again by Hiccup.

"Let's just assume that guy's got super powers and focus on our own situation, kay?" She felt him nod beneath her hand and she released him, though didn't give him time to speak. "We are up against an enemy with superior senses and firepower, defense, and maneuverability. The goal is to simply survive, right?" she asked rhetorically. "Yeah, so all's we gotta do is hunker down and be the last ones standing. Oh! I got just the thing! Follow me," she darted back down the hall they had just passed.

Fishlegs followed timidly at first, but quickened his pace when he realized that the girl was leaving him behind. Rounding the corner, he recognized the hall. "Uh-uh, Hiccup? That's a dea-"

"Yeah I know," Hiccup slid to a halt at the dead end and spun around, pulling the large boy behind her and began fiddling with her satchel. "I upgraded the shield. Now it's thrice as powerful and can be… aha! There it is!" She pulled the cylindrical tube out in a triumphant sweep and held it before her. "Look, now we just sit here…yeah like this… and I just do this…" She fiddled with her modified energy shield for a moment. "I made the shield big enough to block the entire tunnel aaaand… OH GODS!" The shield crackled to life in an immense flash of blue light, slicing through the air and several support beams in the walls around them. She hurriedly turned it off, holding her breath and not daring to move as she glanced at the walls hesitantly. "… I think we're o-"

 _CRACK!_

"Oh gods," Hiccup's eyes widened as the crack racing up the wall did. The crack disappeared into the ceiling and she heard it continue up through the upper two levels, splintering supports. There was no ominous pause or deathly silence before the entire maze began to shake and rattle, crumbling bits of wood raining down in a clear warning of the imminent collapse. "Son of a-!" Her colorful string of curses was drowned out by the crash wood against metal and stone and a cloud of dust rolling down the tunnel directly towards them.

The wall directly behind the duo had conveniently collapsed, giving them a clear shot towards a ramp leading to the upper level. Hiccup dragged a dazed and trembling Fishlegs as best she could through the debris, shouting everything she could think of to get the large boy moving on his own. Up the ramp and appearing on the upper edge of the stone pit, Hiccup got a clearer picture of the destruction she had very unintentionally wrought. Half the maze had completely caved in on itself and a majority of the ceilings and floors had fallen in as well, leaving tall freestanding walls… well, not so freestanding as they were all tipping over like massive dominoes.

"Hey look! Astrid!" Fishlegs snapped out of his daze at the sight of the ax-wielding blond currently leaping from one tumbling wall to another. Her path would lead her right to them. Hiccup followed the blond girl's path with a distracted gaze, trying to find the other recruits in the chaos. The twins and Snotlout were easy to find cowering in some rubble above and behind her, Fishlegs was with her, Astrid was almost to their ledge, and the foreigner was undoubtedly slinking about in some shadow like the damn ghost boy he was. So everyone was accounted for then, cool.

"H-h-hiccup!" Fishleg's cry went unheeded as the red-head saw the 'damn ghost boy' scrambling up out of some rubble pursued by a very ornery Nadder. He followed a similar path as Astrid, but was too far behind the collapsing walls to make it to the stone ledge they were on now. He wouldn't make that last jump and would be stuck in the rubble with the Nadder. Astrid, on the other hand, was almost on them, which was where Fishleg's attention was, and the final wall she planned on jumping from was due to fall directly where they stood in less than a second.

Hiccup's mind sped up to unreasonable speeds as she took in the happenings. Moves and actions played through her mind's eye and in the blink of an eye, she acted. She re-activated her shield on its smaller setting and shoved Fishlegs back as hard as she could. It would have to be enough as she didn't have the time or attention to spare if it was otherwise. Astrid had leapt and the wall was following her down. She may have called Hiccup's name, but that too was tuned out as she focused on not slicing the blond in half.

Holding her shield above her and angled to one side, she widened the energy field. The energy cracked the stone as it struck and sliced through the wall above while providing a ramp for the blond to tumble relatively safely down to the ledge. The wall, now sliced in two, fell on either side of Hiccup. One slid down the flat of the shield while the other tipped over the ledge and created another ramp for the ghost boy to scale to safety. And nearly exactly as planned, much to a certain red-head's surprise, the broken wall ramp landed just before ghost boy hit the rubble pile in front of it with the Nadder behind him.

Without missing a beat, he sprinted up the makeshift ramp to Hiccup's side, and just as the Nadder went to follow, Hiccup pivoted her shield above her so the raised edge slammed into the ground in front of the dragon.

Angry shrieks mixed with the crackle of energy in the dust cloud that had erupted where blue lightning flashed faintly. Everyone was still as the dust settled and the shield glowed more brightly, revealing a scene that left nearly everyone speechless in disbelief.

Ghost boy stood slowly from where he had slid to safety beside Hiccup who was heaving breathes. The twins and Snotlout crept out from their hiding place, and Astrid limped slightly over to where Fishlegs was standing a few paces behind the scene. Hiccup held her shield firmly, gazing over the ledge where the Nadder paced behind the cackling blue energy field. Her eyes were wide and her arms shook but a smile slowly made its way across her face. It was so faint that even if she didn't have her back to them, the others would not have been able to see it. But, being right beside her and apparently forgotten, the foreigner saw the relieved and proud smile working its way across that freckled face.

After receiving an equally astounded reaction from Gobber, a half-hearted scolding for destroying the maze, and a hesitant pat on the back for a job somehow well done, the recruits where released for the day. Hiccup trailed back to her workshop in a euphoric daze, the events still feeling a bit surreal, and was aware of neither the green eyes that watched her go nor the smile that mirrored her own surprise and awe.

.:~:.~.:~:.~.:~:.

AN: It is due to the kindly efforts if TenzinGaga for reaching out to me that I have picked up the story once more. I will give you an abridged version of the explanation I gave them: I recently returned from the soul-sucking void that is the higher education system and will be working on quite a few different stories. I am changing my writing methods and will be aiming to complete the entire story before posting anything more the FF.

But to appease the impatient masses, I will vow to post anything I have by the end of summer.

Also, if anyone is interested in the Transformers universe, I hope to have a story or 2 posted by fall as well.

With my most sincere gratitude for your patience and loyalty,

-Faraday


End file.
